


wounds that never heal

by lenardo_09



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, How Do I Tag, Implied Sexual Content, ugh i don't tag enough ahh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenardo_09/pseuds/lenardo_09
Summary: Tae Joon Park was dead. When his life was taken away from him, he did what he had to survive—and he could never act proud of what he's done.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	wounds that never heal

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty heavy themes ahead. Please do not read if you are not 18+. I didn't write it out, but a lot of the heavy themes are implied. Please he cautious when reading. 
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy.

Park awoke as he always did: a vivid nightmare of the day he lost everything, the day he was forced into a life he never wanted, the new life that forced him to destroy his body with synthetic flesh and metal. Everyone was an enemy—every kind smile was fake, and every gesture had an underlying meaning to it. There was no kindness in this world, none that he was aware of. There were only lies and falsities, manipulation and greed. 

Tae Joon Park was born and raised on the planet Gaea. The faces of his mother and father were mere blurred images attached to bodies he did not recognize. He had lost them both so long ago that it was almost impossible to remember them, the time they spent together so hazy and distant. He remembers his laughter, but he does not remember the voices of his parents, their smiles nor their embraces. 

He remembers the orphanage. He remembers the day he was brought into it, a child whose mind was scarred with loss and shaken by the sounds—the _sounds_ had always been so vivid. Even now, waking from his slumber, he could remember them. He remembered the panic-induced screams of his mother, his father’s shouts, and the gunshots—the thumps and the crashes. He can't remember where he was hidden, but he faintly remembers being encased in darkness, a small box-like area that kept him safe, kept him hidden. 

Mystik has been such a kind caretaker. She couldn't always focus on him, couldn't watch after him so diligently. She had other children to tend to, and Park had never minded. He couldn't take up all of her attention. So he grew used to the loneliness, doing things for himself and tinkering with whatever he found. 

He had always ignored the other children. They were loud and rowdy, and they wanted to play with him. He didn't want to play. He was more fascinated with technology—his parents’ line of work, right? He wanted to remember them somehow, remember what they did for him, the wonderful life they gave him and the fleeting happiness they had so lovingly provided. He ignored them and they left him alone. 

And then along came a little redheaded girl. She wasn't loud, but she called attention to herself. She bothered him, poked his ribs and yanked on his ear until he would pay attention to her. She'd convince him to sneak out, fetch computer parts from the trash bins outside. It made him happy, made him begin feeling again. Mystik was certainly pleased with the development. 

And it all came crashing down when he lost her. 

There was so much darkness, even when bright neon lights shone throughout the city. The noise felt so muted, so distant, that he wasn't even sure there was any. There was so much fear and hatred, so much anger, that he felt it all boil over so many times he was afraid he'd hurt himself. There was a small voice, though, that told him it would all be better. 

He had to change his name, his face—his entire identity was gone. Tae Joon Park didn't exist anymore. He was Hyeon Kim, and this was his new life. 

He wasn't able to afford housing for awhile, so he was stuck on the streets. His skills in hacking and brokering came in handy, and, as much as it sickened him, he learned the hard way that he needed to be careful; killing for the first time had made him sick, shaking so much that he couldn't stand straight. 

As much as it made him sick to do, he hates to admit that, eventually, he grew used to it, using the idea of defending himself as a means of lessening the blow of a life taken by his hands. 

But he needed information, and information was everywhere. He remembers asking a man once, inquiring what he knew about _them_ , and he had taken a look at Tae Joon, head to toe, nodding to himself with a sick grin curling his lips. He asked how desperately he wanted that information, and Park, lost in so much anger and despair, had stated he was desperate enough that it hurt. 

And so he learned that nothing in this world was for free. 

Sometimes, he did things for others and received what he wanted: he gained more information on _them_ , and he learned further of their dark secrets, one by one. Other times, he was left alone with nothing but a broken body and a shattered psyche that wanted nothing more than to hurt those who hurt him. 

So he did. They lost their businesses, their money— _everything_. Nothing in this world was free. 

He didn't live a comfortable life. Everyday was another day he could be discovered, a bullet in his head. The paranoia ate away at him so much on some days that he ended up a ball on the floor, shaking and holding onto himself so tight he ended up with bruises after the panic abated. It took hours before the hacker was able to lift himself off of the ground, able to breathe properly and stop bawling. 

The Apex Games were a far more different experience than he was anticipating. Though he had to hack his way in as a Legend, he was still able to keep up, able to help as much as he could with his drone and skills with a gun. They had all been so kind as well—well, except Elliott, but Park doesn't blame him; he did nearly twist his arm off, after all. 

But the warmth, the familial glow, was all too much. The eyes on him, the chatter about his mysterious aura, the questions and the assumptions—it was a new type of panic, like he was in a lion’s den, waiting for the creature to pounce upon him. 

They touched him as well. He knew they meant nothing by it—the attempted hugs, handshakes, or high-fives—but they made his skin crawl, reminded him of how sweetly some held him when they used him. The compliments twisted his stomach into knots, only reminded of the sweet praises they whispered, how it all made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to tell them to stop, but it would raise suspicion, more so than what already surrounded him. 

Intimacy was such a foreign concept to him now, shattered and ruined by the times spent in the arms of someone chasing a simple high. He hated the feeling of their hands on his skin, touching him like he was some prized doll. Even thinking about it made him want to lose whatever he currently had in his stomach at—he looked at the clock—four o'clock in the morning. 

He had never been interested in that type of intimacy. He had gained so little from that, only information that he could use to take _them_ out—and that was if the source even _had_ information. 

But they didn't know, and what they didn't know couldn't hurt them—couldn't make them turn their eyes on him and look at him with _pity._

One day, they will see the truth. They will see the corruption and horrors _they_ have hidden away behind doors. One day, there will be a new world where their rule no longer applies. Hyeon Kim would burn with the old world, and from the ashes will be born a new one—perhaps one without corruption, where everyone can live happier lives. 

But he had no place there. There was nothing left for him here. He will fade away, having made his impact on the world, and that will be the end of it all. He will be free from his suffering, and, maybe—just maybe—he will see her, and maybe he will see them. 

Maybe the struggle will be worth it all. But, for now, he will walk amongst the Legends, fight by their side, and strive for a future they could all be happy in. 

The idea was enough to force him out of bed, onto his computer, and forget whatever his nightmare had been about. 

**Author's Note:**

> Adding that there's a lot of ideas in here provided by my friend on Tumblr (shutupchini). Some of them are mine, sure, but we discuss Crypto and Mirage a lot, and we share similar ideas and I like writing what HCs she provides. She's super good at character analyzing, so check her out!! She's super cool!! If you read this, Chini, ily


End file.
